Touch
by yiyjfgyty
Summary: A young and in-love Kristoph Gavin patiently waits for his lover's return home. Crack pairing. You'll see.


Touch

A fanfiction by: Mr. Trite

Kristoph Gavin lay curled up on his lover's bed, but he wouldn't know it. The twenty year old's head was in the clouds, evident by the way he sighed happily every couple of minutes; seconds even. A leather vest was cradled in his arms, like a baby's blanket. Occasionally, Kristoph would bring the vest closer to his face to smell it, its scent rushing all through him like a river. Campfires and leather. _His_ smell. The smell that was taking over Krissi's life.

It was hard to believe that it had only been a few months. Kristoph shut his eyes and sighed again, an airy smile painted onto his face. Just a few months ago, there was only one way Kristoph felt he could use to describe his life: _Miserable. _At only twenty years old, Kristoph had felt as thought he was twice the age, and then some. He just couldn't seem to get a break. His entire family back home in Germany, there was nobody to turn to for protection when everybody had seemingly left him for the hounds. Or, more specifically, the hounds down at the defense attorney's office. His young age, pretty looks, and socially awkward personality made Kristoph the target of all the other attorney's jokes back at Grossberg Criminal Defense law firm. This was pretty ironic, considering he was the only normal one out of all of them.

Who would have ever thought a prosecutor would have been the one to save him? Kristoph had been a man down on his luck, a night that just made him want to curl up into a hole and die. These thoughts, thoughts of being broken and alone, was what made Kristoph walk into the bar that night, not really paying attention nor caring where he was going. Unless, of course, you believed in destiny.

Kristoph could feel the glances bounce on and off of him as he scuttled into the bar, which caused him to cast his eyes to the floor, his hands in his pockets. He knew what was happening to him- After all, it was the same story, just like always. If these people weren't mocking him- Most lawyers came to his particular bar after their shifts- they were hungrily checking out his ass, wondering how they could get a piece. That was normally Kristoph's downfall. All it took was a pretty smile and a promise that it had been "love at first sight", and the guy would be in Kristoph's bed in a matter of hours.

That's why he had been so wary when the man had first addressed him with a gentle "Hey." One look up, and Kristoph knew there would be trouble. It wasn't all that hard to figure out. He looked like a modern-day cowboy- Not too sharp, but far from rugged. Definitely just wanted to get in his pants and call it a night…right?

Kristoph just couldn't help but admit that there was something about this guy. Something about him that just made him…Well, _different_. It was his eyes, Kristoph decided. They were an impossibly deep blue, deeper than the ocean. As a matter of fact, that was why Kristoph had such a hard time admitting that he felt perfectly safe around this man. Those eyes…They were a bit _too_ mesmerizing. Krissi had fallen for _that_ trick way too many times. However, not even after just one hundred words, Kristoph realized what made this young man's eyes so spectacular. It wasn't their color, but their _words_. Kristoph could read them like a book. _Loyalty, Happiness, Honesty._

_Trust._

That's how Kristoph had wound up making love to Neil Marshall. Of course he had been nervous. Stupid question. Yet, somehow, Neil had been able to make these fears simultaneously disappear, like they had never been there in the first place. It was the way he held him, the way Neil whispered soothing promises into his ear. These were the things that had made that night more meaningful than any of the other nights Kristoph had ever experienced. So, when Neil had gently slid himself inside for the first time, it had been the fullest Kristoph Gavin had ever felt in all of his twenty years.

And now, months later, here he was, a new person. Kristoph was curled up on the end of Neil's bed- _Their_ bed- his face buried in the prosecutor's tan leather vest. He was working late tonight. Krissi could always go and visit Neil if he wanted-he had permission-and yet Kristoph just didn't want to. Well, no- Of _course _he wanted to see his Neily. It was just…There was a certain thrill when he heard the car door slam in the driveway. Ripples of feeling washed over him when the jingling of the house keys rang out into the vacant hallways, signaling Neil's return home. As a matter of fact, when Krissi felt the calluses of Neil's fingers trail over his bare backbone hours later, the waiting made it seem all the better.

Sighing happily, Krissi draped the light brown vest over the end of the bed, Neil's scent still all over his hands. He shut his eyes. Never did Kristoph imagine that this would ever happen to him, not in a million years. Looking over the footboard, Kristoph noticed a treasure trove of possessions, belonging to both of them. A pillow, which Neil kept at the end on the bed while the other was in the wash. A stuffed bunny that went by the name of Mr. Floppers, that Klavier had given him before Kristoph had left for America. Amongst theses items and other things- A light blush covered Krissi's face when he very well recognized a half-empty bottle of lube- was a book. Krissi reached through the bars of the footboard to retrieve it. Only with a slight touch of the spine, Kristoph recognized the feel instantly as faux leather. Krissi couldn't help but smile. Neil.

Obviously, it was a journal. Propping the item into his lap, Kristoph idly ran his finger over the edges of the lined white paper. He had never envisioned Neil as much of a writer. How cute. Opening up to the page the journal was lying on- The book had probably fallen off the bed to the floor while they had been kissing - Kristoph realized that the page was empty. Frowning, Kristoph opened up to some of the other earlier pages, hoping for something there.

And, as if my magic, Neil's handwriting spilled out onto the page. Kristoph scanned the pages with his gray-blue eyes, encased behind rounded glass. To be perfectly honest, there wasn't much on this page. Neil talked about court a lot, often referring to a "Pig-headed, coffee-guzzlin', 'couldn't track an elephant in the snow', sad excuse for a defense attorney Diego Armando." With a shake of his head, Kristoph laughed. He had been dating Neil long enough to know that those two were almost as bitter as one of Diego's special-made blends. It was almost kind of funny- Little had Neil known that, at this point, his rival was making Krissi's life a living Hell whenever they weren't duking it out in Court.

As the blonde continued through his lover's thoughts, he smiled. How interesting it was, to see what Neil's life had been like before he was even a thought it the prosecutor's head. Quite a few of these stories were funny- Like how a few of the members on the force had gone drinking one night, which ended in some Bruce Goodman character hitting on the Tobacco Indian in the front of the bar. However, as Krissi continued to read through the entries, he began to notice something. Like, how the months went on, things seemed to get predominantly worse and worse. Not wanting to read up on it entirely, Krissi searched the pages for words he would recognize, words that came up more often than never.

Three. That was how many he could find. "Jake," who was Neil's brother and a story all in himself. "Gant," which was a name Kristoph barely knew. He _did _know, however, that Damon Gant was one of the top choices to be the next Chief of Police. The two had barely any contact with each other, but Krissi felt that he was a nice enough guy. He figured he'd have to take him up on the swimming offer one of these days. Maybe he could bring Neil along, too. And then, there was the last word. A word so ugly, it made Kristoph squirm. Why…Why would anybody want to blackmail Neil? Kristoph shook his head and flipped further, getting far away from that page. He was dying to know what was happening to his cowboy, but that was much too personal of a matter. He was sure that Neil would tell him when he was ready. Finding a good spot to continue, Kristoph set his sharp eyes on the page and began to read.

_6/14_

_It's hard to believe I've been so lucky. After all of this had happened, it's just…Well, it's hard to explain._

_Just so you know, my Krissi sure is beautiful. He's got eyes like the bluest skies on an open plain. I could get myself lost, just starin' into them._

_Sometimes, early in the morning, I'll wake up and he'll be snoozing away. Krissi's kind of a late sleeper when you don't wake him up. The sun catches his hair, and it practically glows. Y'know how they say how all that glitters isn't gold, or something like that? Well, whoever made that one up never met Krissi, that's for sure. It ain't real gold, his hair, but it might as well be. Way that stuff shines, it near well burns by eyes._

_Anyway, sometimes I think I'm dreaming, Y'know? I'll look over at that little angel in my bed and just wait for him to get up and fly away, leaving me behind. But, as long as I'm holdin' on, he ain't going nowhere. _

Stunned, Kristoph's vision went hazy. Did…Did Neil really think that way about him? He was truly touched. The blonde ran his finger down the book's binding absentmindedly. It was hard to believe that _anybody_ would ever feel that way for him. A tiny smile crossed Kristoph's face. Did Neil even realize how much _he_ cared about him?

Just then, Kristoph's world went black. Alarmed, he felt all of the hair on the back of his neck stand up as straight as soldiers. A blackout? But then, a smile crossed Kristoph's face. Letting the faux leather journal slip from his hands, the blonde reached up. When he went to go touch his eyes, he felt that a pair of hands had already beaten him there. They were rough-skinned, nowhere near as well taken care of as Krissi's. His smile widening, Krissi spoke.

"Neil," he greeted as he felt a pair of lips brush against his neck, "I've missed you."


End file.
